


Now, Turn to your Partner and Describe their Eyes

by DoubleDebiru



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Art Class Blues, College, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleDebiru/pseuds/DoubleDebiru
Summary: Ryo regretted taking this stupid art class. His major had nothing to do with art, and he was pretty damn sure he sucked at drawing. But maybesomethinggood can come out of this.





	Now, Turn to your Partner and Describe their Eyes

The wood of Ryo’s art clipboard pressed deep, red marks into his fingers as he trekked across the campus. He regretted choosing this drawing class as an elective, thinking it’d be a nice break from his more “academic” classes. Well, it certainly was a break, but he had to sit there for almost three hours as he got progressively more tired and hungry and frustrated with his lack of art skills.

He sighed, turning off the sidewalk and into the grass to pause and set the clipboard down. He shook out his sore hand, adjusted his bin of art supplies under his armpit, then begrudgingly went on his way again.

There had to be a better fucking way to do this. Some other students had these big folder-looking things, maybe portfolios of some kind. Maybe they put their clipboards and art supplies in there, but Ryo wasn’t sure. Honestly, he didn’t pay much attention to his fellow students, preferring to keep to himself. He knew that he was awkward and shit at keeping friends, so he didn’t bother with pleasantries.

Finally, he made it to the art building, an inviting, homey structure with a courtyard in the center. Thankfully, the entrance to the courtyard didn’t have a door so he could walk in without fumbling with his supplies, but the same couldn’t be said of the hallway to get to his class. He was about to shift his bin to his other armpit to free his hand when someone opened the door for him.

He offered them a mumbled “Thanks,” and a nod before heading into the classroom. He grimaced a little to himself, feeling rude for saying it so quietly, but got over it quickly. This kind of thing happened all the time, and it wasn’t like it really mattered.

Oh, but maybe it did. That guy followed him right into class, and maybe he did look a little familiar. And cute, if he was being honest. Trying to ignore him, Ryo settled into his usual stool near the back, situating his clipboard on the easel.

A strange contraption sat in the middle of the room, something like a carpeted box or platform with wheels on the bottom, and two stools rested on top of it. He knew what it was for, they’d started using it last week. The teacher had two students at a time pose there as models for the rest to draw. Just their heads and shoulders.

She’d taught them about the structure of heads and faces, and Ryo liked that more than the messy gestures she had them do afterwards. He liked when things were clear and formulaic, when they could be objectively right or wrong. It made it easier to get better.

He fucked around on his phone until the teacher started class, a gentle, grandmotherly woman with graying hair and round glasses. After scrawling his way through two more gestures, trying and failing to pull something that resembled a face out of the soft charcoal, it was his turn to model. He wiped the gestures off with his hand, smearing the page into a gray mess, before shuffling his way over and climbing onto one of the stools.

He took a breath then sat up straight, focusing his vision on some writing on the chalkboard directly ahead. Weirdly enough, he didn’t mind modelling. He didn’t always love his appearance, but it wasn’t like these people or anyone else gave a shit about what he looked like. They were just here for a grade, and Ryo was happy to help them out.

When it was over, he clambered down and back to his seat, but the teacher said something that froze him in place. Find a partner?

Things went from bad to worse when that cute guy from earlier turned to him and said, “Hey, do you have a partner?”

He couldn’t bring himself to look directly at him, nervousness swelling up his throat, but he shook his head and agreed to partnering with him. If what they were doing was just drawing each other, it wouldn’t be any different from modelling on the platform, right? There was no reason to be this nervous.

The teacher had them grab their smaller sketch pads, scoot their stools closer together, and face each other. This was so fucking awkward, but at least his partner seemed as nervous as he felt, laughing softly and fidgeting with his hands. Then, she took some chalk and drew a circle on the board, filling it with an iris and a pupil and explaining how and where the eyelids sit on the sphere of the eye.

A few times, she directed them to look at their partner’s eyes, but Ryo stared off just to side each time, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Now, turn to your partner and describe their eyes, how their eyelids curve. What’s the highest and lowest point?”

Fuck, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. Bracing himself, he looked right into his partner’s eyes, tracing each curve and line. He was almost taken off guard when his partner spoke first, voice soft and unsure.

“Your eyes, they’re um, kind of thin? And it’s a pretty straight curve. I mean, like a normal curve. A straight-up curve.”

Holy shit, he had no right to be this adorable, looking at him with those kind, brown eyes and waiting for a response. He couldn’t just leave him hanging, so he mustered all of his courage and tried to shove words, any words, out of his mouth.

“You . . .” He swallowed, pressing his hand down on his thigh to stop himself from shaking. “The top curves highest by your nose, and the bottom’s a little straight. Cuts off the iris.”

He looked thoughtful for a second, then smiled and started to say something else, but the teacher interrupted him. She explained something about eyelids, how much of the top you can see straight-on, where the eyelashes come from.

Like a switch was flipped, Ryo became less nervous about looking at his partner. He even caught himself leaning forward, trying to examine more closely. He pulled back, face burning and heart fluttering in his chest. This was weirdly intense and intimate, probably due to the fact that he avoided looking most people in the eyes at all.

It made him nervous, so he didn’t do it. Simple. And now he could see why more than ever.

Next, she had them describe each other’s eyebrows. Seeing as his partner (wait, he didn't even know his name?!) went first last time, Ryo said, “They're a little thick. And straight. Then they curve down at the end.”

“Yours are thin, and they curve like -” He motioned with a finger, an arc like a rainbow. Ryo was pretty sure his eyebrows weren’t quite that curved, but damn if that wasn’t charming.

Absentmindedly, his partner touched his own face, leaving a charcoal smudge by his nose. Ryo almost laughed at that, the absurdity of the situation and nervousness boiling over, but the teacher moved on.

Now, they had to take what they’d learned and apply it, drawing each other’s eyes on the sketchpad. But first, she asked them to write each other’s names down, meaning now he had to actually ask him what his name was.

This was going to kill him. This fucking class was going to kill him.

But before he could open his mouth, his partner offered him his sketchpad, a clear invitation to just wordlessly write his name down. He did so, which was a little hard with the blunt charcoal, and let his partner do the same.

Akira, huh?

“Uh, do you wanna draw first, or do you want me to?”

He answered maybe a little too quickly, not wanting to think about it much. “I will.”

The teacher gave them a few minutes to complete the task, and Akira went adorably stock-still, staring forward as Ryo tried to capture his right eye on the page. Well, technically his left eye, but it was on Ryo’s right.

When he paused, trying to figure out what else he could do to it, Akira surprised him, saying, “Wow, that looks really good.”

Not only was he cute, but he was full of it. Though he sounded genuine, and it did flatter him, there was no way the drawing was anything more than passable.

Then, time was up, and they switched. When Akira looked down to draw, Ryo snuck a few peeks at the drawing, a bit larger than his own. But each time he looked up, he tried hard to revert to the same position and stay still, even focusing on the same spot on Akira’s forehead near his hairline.

Next came the structure of noses, the angle of the bridge, whether the tip points up or down, and another pause to talk to your partner.

“I think yours points down a bit, and uh . . .”

Ryo caught the cue and turned to the side.

“It’s pretty straight. Uh, yeah.”

His turn again. He tried to speak a little less softly, project a little more confidence. There was no reason to be this nervous, and besides, maybe he was starting to get the hang of it. “Yours is kind of in the middle, and -”

He turned without prompting.

“The bridge curves a little inward.” He took a breath. He could get through this. He could feel the mid-class break creeping closer without checking the time. He’d just have to make it until then and never have to talk to this unfairly cute person, Akira, ever again. And maybe they’d stop here, maybe that was it.

But no, the teacher was drawing something else on the board, explaining how lips are made up of a sort of simplified Mickey Mouse shape.

Wait one fucking second. Lips?! Wasn’t staring at someone’s lips supposed to be a body language cue for wanting to kiss them? He wasn’t quite sure, never having been in a serious relationship, himself, but the thought mortified him.

“Turn to your partner and see if their lips form a straight line in the middle.”

He cursed inwardly as he traced the curves of Akira’s lips with his eyes, a little chapped but full and nice-looking. He’d only been kissed once or twice before, brief and chaste, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss him, what he was like beneath that handsome face.

He almost forgot to say anything out loud, stammering, “No, they dip in the middle and curve down at the sides.”

“Yours, too. Just like -” He made a little dipping motion with his fingers as if he was tracing them, letting out a little “Woo,” noise that melted Ryo’s heart.

Now, they had to draw each other’s lips. Great.

A little more difficult than his eyes, Ryo felt like he used way too much pigment and like the drawing became a dark mess.

As they finished, it was finally time for break. Ryo collected his things and went back to his spot, but Akira followed him.

“Hey, uh, can I see your paper one last time? I forgot to put something on there.”

Confused, he handed the sketchpad over. He hadn’t closed it yet so as to not destroy the drawings.

When he handed it back, something else was written by his name. In fact, it appeared to be his phone number.

Stunned, Ryo stared at him.

“If we have to turn that in later, you can just erase it.” He even winked.

Was he taking pity on him for acting so awkward and never talking to anyone this whole semester, or was he really interested in him? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“I’ll . . . I’ll text you later. Thanks.”


End file.
